


Catharsis

by Emcee



Series: Deadlier If You Mean It [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Sherlock, F/M, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 10:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9380561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emcee/pseuds/Emcee
Summary: Sherlock reaches Molly to tell her the truth about how he feels. But the truth is rarely pure and never simple.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Petra, Lexie, April and sempaiko.

Molly was like a beacon to him. She was sitting outside on the step outside her front door, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin on her hands. He dimly noticed the vans stopped in front of her house, the police tape, but none of that mattered. Only Molly mattered.

Sherlock slammed the door of the car, striding up the pavement towards her. "Molly, we need to talk. It's very important."

Molly jerked her head towards the door. "Your brother's men are inside. Taking down the cameras. And looking for explosives... Just to be certain."

Sherlock's heart clenched. He wanted to reach out and pull Molly into his arms. He wanted to assure her that everything would be all right. That she was safe. "So you understand."

Molly shook her head. "No, Sherlock... I don't."

"The person who did all of this..." Sherlock knelt down on the ground in front of Molly. "She's..."

"Your sister. Eurus." Molly averted her gaze, instead choosing to focus on a bit of rust on the railing. "We spoke."

Another clench to Sherlock's heart. "You spoke to Eurus?"

"She called me this afternoon. She has quite the way with words. Gives you a run for your money." She laughed hollowly.

Sherlock closed his eyes tightly. "In more ways than you know."

"Are you sure?" Molly rose to her feet, walking around Sherlock and down the pavement. "Let me see if I can piece this all together: You have a secret sister, who was secret because she's utterly insane. She wanted to destroy you and everyone you know, everyone you--" She paused, taking a breath, skipping over the ending. "She's cleverer than you. She was the one responsible for the Moriarty message. Putting her final plan into action involved blowing up 221B... She took you captive. She put you through things. Tests. Made you do things. Made you say things."

Sherlock stood up, letting out a deep sigh. "Missing a few details, but you have the basics."

Molly wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "And one of the tests was me. Making me say that to you. And she called me to strip me down, get me in the emotionally right place to tell you to fuck off. Just to make it harder for you."

Sherlock nodded, taking a hesitant step towards Molly. "She told me if you didn't say it..."

"That my house would explode. And you have every reason to believe it. She'd just blown up your flat, why not mine, right?"

Another step closer. This time, Molly visibly tensed and took a step back.

"When did you figure it out?" Sherlock asked.

Molly grimaced. "Starting putting it together when you-- she-- hung up right after I said it. Sussed out the rest when Mycroft's men got here."

Sherlock looked down at the ground. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to be calm. He needed to be in control. "Molly, she used you because she knew what you meant to me. How much it would hurt me if something happened to you. She knew you would tell me to say it." He took another breath, finally raising his head to meet her eyes. "And she knew I meant it. Do you hear me, Molly? _I meant it_."

Molly bobbed her head. "I know."

Her ponytail flipped as she turned quickly, starting down the road.

Sherlock blinked. That hadn't been the reaction he had been expecting. He hadn't thought she would immediately fall into his arms, but to not talk to him? "Molly?" Sherlock chased after her. "Molly? Where are you going?"

Molly didn't halt, continuing down the road. "Your brother's goons are going to be in my flat all night. I need to sleep. I'm going to a hotel. Last train is gone. Need to get to the main road to flag a cab."

Sherlock sped up, closing the distance between himself and Molly. He reached out, grabbing hold of Molly's wrist. "Molly, there's a car. I'll take you to a hotel. Please. We need to talk."

Molly stopped walking, turning to look back at Sherlock. Slowly, sadly, she shook her head. "What's there to say?"

Sherlock's heart wasn't clenched anymore. Instead, it felt like it was sinking down into his shoes. He slipped his hand from her wrist to hold her hand. "So much. Please Molly." He sighed. "If you don't want to talk we don't have to. Just let me get your somewhere safe. This is all my fault. Let me take care of you. Please."

Molly lowered her head, looking down at their joined hands. After a long moment, she nodded. "All right."

Sherlock led Molly back to the car. He opened the door, gesturing for her to get inside. She moved past him, settling herself in. Sherlock got in beside her. He leaned over to tell the driver his directions before sitting down and trying to ignore the tension.

The only sound was the thrum of the engine as they drove down the streets of London, moving closer to the city center. Sherlock glanced over at Molly, trying to read her face.

She had been crying off and on all afternoon. Vacillating between unbelievable anger and pronounced sadness.

"How long have you known?"

Molly sniffled, not looking at him. "Longer than you."

"As I only figured it out this afternoon that's not saying much. When?"

Molly wrung her hands. "When you came back..." She sniffled again. "And we solved cases together... We were in that hallway... That's when I knew."

Sherlock thought back on that day, finally understanding what that pit in his stomach had been as he had kissed Molly on the cheek and told her to be happy. "But I let you go. I told you to be happy with someone else."

Molly raised her head, finally turning to look at him. "That's _how_ I knew."

She averted her gaze once again, picking at a bit of lint on her sweater.

"I called ahead to The Goring. I booked the Royal Suite." Sherlock kept his eyes trained on Molly even as she looked anywhere but at him. "It may be a few days before your flat is fully cleared. And with 221B..."

"What are you trying to do, Sherlock?" Molly asked. "Why are you taking me to a posh hotel? What do you think you're going to get out of it?"

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "You safe."

The rest of the ride was in complete silence. As they were riding up the lift to the penthouse, Molly suddenly piped up. "I'm only staying with you because I know this place is ghastly expensive and the suite has two bedrooms."

When they got into the suite, Sherlock slipped off his coat and gestured to the door on his left. "You're in the master bedroom. There are sleeping clothes laid out. I thought you would want something to change into."

Molly nodded. "Because of course you knew I would stay with you when you phoned for the reservation." She turned and walked towards the bedroom.

Sherlock took a deep breath as he watched Molly retreat. "Molly, I love you."

Molly's whole body tensed as stopped walking. She turned to Sherlock, shaking her head.

"No, no... Please let me speak." Sherlock took a step towards her. "I'm not under duress this time. I'm not saying it so you'll say it back. I'm saying it because I'm standing in front of you now and you can look in my eyes and see that it's true. I love you, Molly Hooper. I hardly know what that means. I've known for a long time I felt differently about you, but I didn't _know_. It was only when you made me say those words I understood... That was it. That was what I felt. You are everything I could possibly want. Clever and curious and wonderfully morbid. You compliment me and at the same time contrast me. You bring light to my shadows." He hadn't realized he had kept walking towards her until he was standing right in front of her, only a breath apart. "I know I have been an utter arse. I don't deserve you. I have played with your emotions for years. But I love you, Molly. And the idea of being in love with you but not being able to love you... That you've been able to stand it all these years tells me just how much stronger than me you are. Because it's already killing me."

Molly's hands slipped into his hair, pulling him down to press their mouths together. Sherlock groaned, sinking into the kiss. His hands rested against her hips before sliding up her back, pulling her flush against him. He delved his tongue into her mouth, letting it tangle with hers. For a long moment they simply kissed. Sherlock took in the scent of her skin, the warmth of her body.

Molly was safe.

Molly was with him.

Molly was loved.

Suddenly, Molly pulled away from him. She tore herself out of his arms, letting out a cry. "You _bastard_."

Sherlock blinked, utterly confused. Just a second ago everything had been all right. Molly was happy with him. But now...

"It was so much easier," Molly's voice was quiet. "Loving you... Knowing nothing would happen. It was _easier_. Before you came back it was a crush. I thought I had you out of my system after we..."

"After we made love." Sherlock nodded. "After I jumped."

Molly grimaced. He could see the tears glistening in her eyes. "I thought I could move on to Tom. But then you came back and the second I saw you..." She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. She then moved them away and looked back at Sherlock. "I realized you don't fake the death of someone you don't love unconditionally."

"Is there a problem with that?" Sherlock was confused. He didn't understand why Molly's affection for him was hurting her so.

Molly bit her lip. "I love you unconditionally... But you're an emotionally stunted junkie with a death wish. That's a hell of a condition. And it _hurts_."

She brought her hands to her mouth and wandered around the sitting room before sinking down onto the opulent sofa. "After John's wedding, when you came to me... I was ready for you then, Sherlock. I left Tom because I knew it wasn't fair to him to be engaged to him when I was so absolutely in love with someone else. And then the next time I saw you..."

"I was high off my tits." Sherlock sat down across from Molly. "I wasn't high when I came to you. Molly, I swear."

Molly shook her head. "That's not the point, Sherlock. After that, you were. For a long time. Just a few weeks ago you nearly killed yourself again with those same drugs."

"That was to save John!" Sherlock protested.

"There were other ways!" Molly shouted. "You could've reached John a million ways. You're so clever! You knew there were other options. There have always been other options. Every time... You didn't do it because you needed it for a case. You did it because you needed it for _yourself_." She was furiously wiping away her tears. "But the thing is... I don't care. I love you and will always be there for you no matter what. I know that. But..." She was trembling. "It's real now. I knew you loved me, but you didn't know it. That meant it wasn't _real_. I could ignore it. But I can't ignore it now."

Sherlock's stomach was churning and his heart felt constricted. "Why would you want to?"

"Because what if I'm not enough?" Molly sobbed and Sherlock was aching to collect her into his arms and hold her close. But no, he couldn't. She would recoil at that. "You need _so much_. You need the danger. You need the action. And you need the drugs. What if you need all that more than you need me? I know you, Sherlock. I've known you for years. You've always needed all of that more than you needed me. How is it any different now?"

"Because I hadn't almost lost you." Sherlock slid off the sofa, getting on his knees in front of Molly. "Eurus said it wasn't real, but it was real to me. You were two seconds away from being blown up. When I said those words to you and I knew I meant them... Before you said them back..." Sherlock bowed his head. He could feel the tears threatening. "I thought I'd finally found what John had said: the person who completes me as a human being. And he had warned me. That it would be gone before I knew it. And you were almost gone... But then you whispered those words..."

He let out a choked noise and buried his face in Molly's lap. "I saw what it did to John. I saw how it destroyed him to lose Mary. I can't lose you. Not to danger. Not to my own stupidity." He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to her thigh. "I want to be better, Molly. I want to be the man who is worthy of your love. I want to be a better man... For you, for John, for Rosie, for Mary..."

"Mary's gone," Molly reminded him.

Sherlock raised his head. "All the more reason for me to be better for her. I have made so many mistakes. But I'm done."

He took hold of Molly's hands, kissing them. "For years I've been running. I was running from pain I couldn't even remember. I numbed it with drugs, with the work, with cutting myself off from everyone I might care about. But I remember it all now. And I survived it. And now..."

Sherlock shuddered. "And now I need my friends. I need my family. And I need you. I don't want occasional shags because I'm feeling lonely. I don't want to walk away from you and leave you upset. I want to work with you. I want to hear your ridiculous, morbid jokes and for you to laugh at them. I want to come to your flat not because I'm pretending I need a bolt hole, but just because I want to see you." He sat up and cupped her face. "Molly Hooper, I love you."

He watched as Molly's lips parted as she exhaled. It was like a dam had broken. The tear slid down her cheeks, but she smile at him. Her face absolutely lit up. She reached down, cradling his cheek. "Sherlock Holmes..." She let out a mix of a sob and a laugh. "I love you too."

Sweeping Molly up into his arms, Sherlock kissed her hard. He poured everything in him: his worry and grief, his elation and confusion... He gave it all to kissing the tiny woman in his arms. When he finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to hers. "So this is it? This is how it ends?"

Molly shook her head. "No, Sherlock... This is how it begins."


End file.
